


honey, i'm so keen

by soldierwitch



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, POV Clarke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 10:32:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18849268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soldierwitch/pseuds/soldierwitch
Summary: The keys to a fresh start are promises made becoming promises kept. Separated, or together, Clarke and Bellamy are determined to be on the same page. Come Hell or high water. Post-6x02.





	honey, i'm so keen

**Author's Note:**

> title from [17 - MK.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NoBAfjvhj7o) written before 6x03, only canon compliant up to 6x02. this is a one-shot.

Russell insisted Clarke go to the party in the hall and, like a dutiful guest and representative of her people, she goes. It still feels strange being in a dress though this is the second she’s worn on Sanctum. She didn’t wear them often on the Ark and on the Ground she only wore one. It seems dresses enter her life whenever she’s meant to play a role not when she’s being herself. Clarke is sure that says a lot of things about her life, but she ignores the niggling voice in her head whispering to her about how easy it is for her to slip on a mask and pretend.

Tonight is about blending in and making a good impression. Russell framed the party as a way for her to let loose and enjoy herself, but Clarke is surrounded by strangers, she can’t relax. Raven is barely speaking to her, Jordan is busy exploring and tasting anything he can get his hands on, and her mother is in Sanctum’s labs working on a cure for Kane. The others give her a wide berth, they aren’t being spiteful but they aren’t welcoming her into their circle either. 

Clarke gently tugs on the chain around her neck, fingers sliding down to the small key brushing her skin. Bellamy’s key. It’s been four days since he left, and she’s felt his absence more than she’d ever admit aloud. Missing him became her normal six years ago, she had thought she’d gotten used to it but watching him walk away had been harder this time. She doesn’t know if it’s the uncertainty of their circumstances on Sanctum or if it’s guilt for leaving him the way she did on Earth, but there are parts of Clarke’s life that are marked by the two of them separating. This time, however, had been different. They’d almost always wished each other well and traded similar lines on being careful, reminding one another what their respective objectives were and reiterating the time frame for their separations, but they rarely made promises. Earth wasn’t the place for those kind of things, the land was wild, it’s people wilder, and every mission was a risk.

Still, Bellamy had found her before he, Echo, and Octavia were scheduled to leave. He looked like he was trying to leash his panic, a feeling she held, too, though she had showed fewer signs of it than him. 

_Bellamy grips his walking stick tight, leaning on it as he stands._

_Clarke bites her lip, watching as he shifts his weight to get more comfortable. “Sorry,” she whispers, eyes trained on his leg. The wound has been cleaned, stitched, and bandaged. She cannot see it beneath his pants, but it’s there and its presence is a reminder of yet another way she’s managed to hurt her best friend._

_“I’m the one who should be saying sorry,” he says, hand gesturing toward her throat. “I could have killed you.”  
_

_“You didn’t.”  
_

_“But I tried.”  
_

_She shuffles her feet, looking toward the window of the classroom they’re standing in, and mutters, “Nothing I haven’t tried myself.”  
_

_Bellamy looks puzzled, and Clarke deflects. They’re walking too close to her demons. Shakespeare was right when he wrote hell is empty and all the devils are here, but Dante wasn’t wrong about the circles. There are levels to what she’s willing to share with Bellamy, and her suicidal ideations are a circle unto themselves. One she tries not to venture in, and one she does not want to talk about. Not with him, at least not right now._

_“I shot you.”  
_

_“You shot at me,” Bellamy clarifies. “You didn’t shoot me.”  
_

_“Yeah,” Clarke says, folding her arms and looking at him again. “Well, I was of sound mind and body when I did it, so you don’t owe me an apology.”  
_

_“Were you of sound mind and body when you stabbed me?”  
_

_“No.”  
_

_“Then you don’t owe me an apology either.”_

_Bellamy’s eyes flick down to her throat, and Clarke resists the urge to touch the bruises his hands left behind. “They’ll fade,” she says, softly._

_“But the memory won’t.”  
_

_Clarke tsks, the sound quiet and sad. She unfolds her arms. “Bellamy…”  
_

_“When I was on the Ring,” he stops, swallowing before continuing. “When I thought we’d lost you. Memories were all we had. And the one that played over and over again in my head was the last time I saw you. We were running on so little time, but it was supposed to be enough for me and Murphy to go get Monty and for you to align the satellites. I didn’t stop to think that we may not see each other again, but you did. I remember. You hesitated, and you called my name, and for a split second it looked like you were going to tell me something other than hurry, but you didn’t. You let me run off with Murphy, and that’s the moment when we lost you. Not when I closed the shuttle door, but when I left you alone.”  
_

_“Bellamy, you had to.”  
_

_He chuckles, mirthless. His hair falls in his face as he looks down. “I’m getting sick of that phrase. Had to. I had to leave you. I had to poison my sister. I had to put the chip in Madi. You and I are always doing what we have to, Clarke, damn the consequences. You called me every day for six years, and you left me in the fighting pits to die. I assume that’s because you felt you had to.”  
_

_“I’m sorry, Bellamy,” Clarke says, voice strained as her eyes start to water. Bellamy’s are just as glossy with tears._

_“I know,” he says. “But aren’t you tired of being sorry? Because I’m tired of being hurt.”  
_

_Clarke doesn’t say anything. She’s at a loss for words, and her heart aches looking at Bellamy._

_“I don’t want my last memory of you to be this,” he continues. “I don’t want it to be my stab wound and your bruises. I don’t want it to be about how we hurt each other.”  
_

_Bellamy pulls a chain out of his pocket, a key dangles at the end catching the light. “I gave this to you because I trusted that you’d use it if you needed to and give it to me if I asked while in my right mind.”  
_

_Clarke stares at the key to Bellamy’s restraints and then looks up at him, confused. “The eclipse…”  
_

_“Is over,” he says. “They won’t need it for awhile, and I’ll be back before they do.”  
_

_She steps forward closing the gap between them. “Then, what are you saying?”_

_Bellamy takes Clarke’s hand and places the key in her palm. “I’m saying that I trust you, and I’ll be back. I’m not leaving you behind.”  
_

_He lets go, and her fingers curl around the key._

_“Bellamy, it’s time to go,” Raven yells from somewhere on the grounds, her voice traveling into the room and interrupting the two of them._

_His head turns toward the doors. “I’d better…”  
_

_Clarke pockets his key and grabs his hand, fishing her own key out of another pocket and placing it in his palm. “I trust you, too,” she says, bringing his attention back to her. “I’ll be here when you get back. I’m not going anywhere.”_

_Bellamy looks at their joined hands and then back at Clarke._

_“Promise,” she says, letting go of his hand, his fingers curl around her key._

_“Promise,” he says as soft as she did.  
_

They’d exchanged their usual goodbye in front of the others with the exception of Bellamy making another promise to her to keep Madi safe. She’d nodded, trusting him. Trusting his desire to rewrite their memories, to turn what was negative into positives. The key burned in her pocket but as the hours passed, it became a warm presence despite being cool to the touch. It stayed on her through clothing changes and tonight it was around her neck because her dress lacked pockets. The key was calming. It reminded Clarke that she wasn’t alone much like her radio did once upon a time.

“Can I have this dance,” asks a woman who reminds Clarke of a sprite. She’s pretty and small, her white dress changing colors as the strobe lights paint it green then blue then pink and green again. 

Clarke accepts, following the woman onto the dance floor. She smiles accordingly, but keeps an eye on the exit, and calculates the quickest route to the door if she needs to make a fast retreat. That’s how she spots Murphy peering at the crowd clearly looking for someone. When his eyes land on her, he jerks his head toward the door and walks out.

“Excuse me,” Clarke says and tries not to let her heart fly out of her chest as she exits the hall. Standing a few feet away are Murphy, Echo, Octavia, and Bellamy.

“What’s wrong,” she asks, the look on each of their faces makes it clear this isn’t the time for pleasantries though she can’t help but notice the slight widening of Bellamy’s eyes, his gaze scanning her figure before landing on his key a moment and returning to her eyes. 

“Madi was taken from the dropship,” Bellamy says.

“When,” Clarke asks, heart falling to the pit of her stomach.

“We don’t know,” Echo answers.

“Diyoza and Gaia were injured and unconscious when he got there,” Octavia says. “Madi was gone.”

“Then how do you know she was taken?”

“We were able to wake Diyoza and Gaia,” Bellamy says. “Diyoza said someone got the drop on her. They’d grabbed Madi while the three of them had been outside. Before she and Gaia could do anything they’d been gassed. The last thing Gaia heard was a man talking about Russell and if he wanted salvation then he’d have to come and get it.”

Clarke feels every mask she’s worn since they left fall and shatter around her feet. Her spine steels. “Then I need to have a word with Russell. Where is he?”

“In the lab with Abby,” Murphy says.

She looks down at herself. At her dress that was picked out for her. At her lack of leather and hard soled boots, things she’d come to consider her armor. “I’m going to change. Bring him to me,” Clarke says, turning and heading to her room without waiting for Murphy to accept her demand. Madi’s on the line, he knows what this means to her.

Bellamy falls in step beside her.

“What are you doing,” Clarke asks, peering at him from the corner of her eye.

“Going with you,” he says, simply, rounding the corner with her and heading down the hallway.

By the time Murphy brings Russell to her room, Clarke has changed back into her own clothes. Bellamy stands beside her as Russell is led in.

“First, Clarke, I extend my sincerest apologies to you,” Russell says. “To have a child taken–”

“We don’t have time for this,” Bellamy says, his voice a rumble in Clarke’s ear. “Where’s Madi?”

Russell doesn’t respond to him. “Clarke, you have to understand. There are rules to our land that you’ve just begun to learn.”

“Bellamy asked you question,” Murphy says, walking to stand next to Russell.

Russell’s eyes stray to his before they look back to Clarke. “Be that as it may. I cannot–”

“You can,“ Clarke says as Bellamy pulls a length of fabric from his pocket. It’s the sash to her dress. 

“And you will,” Bellamy finishes.

Murphy turns a stunned Russell around, and Bellamy loops the sash around Russell’s neck and pulls, turning him to face Clarke once again.

Bellamy kicks Russell’s legs out from under him causing the man to fall to his knees.

“I don’t care about your rules,” Clarke says, leaning down to meet Russell’s strained gaze as he pulls at the sash around his neck struggling to breath. “Tell me where my daughter is.”

“I’m trying to protect you,” Russell wheezes. “All of you.”

“We can protect ourselves, Russell,” she says. “But who’s going to protect you?”

Bellamy’s grip tightens; Russell’s fingers scramble to pull at the sash harder, but it does nothing to help him.

“I’m going to ask you again. Where. Is. My. Daughter?”

Russell shakes his head.

Clarke pulls the gun from her back holster and aims at him. “What about _your_ people, Russell? Who’s going to protect them if you’re gone?”

“You wouldn’t.”

She flicks off the safety. “I would, and I have.”

“I’d talk,” Murphy says, going to stand beside Clarke. “You mean nothing to her.”

“And you mean everything to your people,” Bellamy says. “You’re the last of the Lightborns. Without you they’re lost, right? Do you want your people to suffer, Russell?”

He shakes his head.

“Then tell me where Madi is,” Clarke says.

“The Wastelands,” Russell wheezes. “The Outsiders took her to the Wastelands.”

“What do they want with her?”

“Nothing. It’s what they don’t want. The child is special. She is Becca’s heir. She is our salvation. Not everyone wants to be saved.”

“Including you,” Clarke grits. Another world, same bullshit concerning her daughter.  

“My salvation died centuries ago,” Russell says. “It died with your planet Earth. The child is a symbol of a time that has passed. I will not risk my people for a memory that belongs to our ancestors and that lost its potency upon your arrival.”

With a growl, Clarke slides the safety back on and hits Russell with the butt of her gun. “My daughter is not a memory. Know this, if she dies so do you. Your people be damned.”

Clarke looks at Bellamy. The neck of his shirt has slipped to the side as he strains to hold onto Russell. A silver glint catches her eye. “Let him go,” she says and watches as Russell starts coughing upon release, his hands gripping his throat as he hacks.

“You…are…the…devil I thought you were.”

Clarke suppresses a flinch at his words and puts her gun back in her holster. “Survival makes monsters of us all, Russell. Hell is empty. Be glad I didn’t put you in it.”

Clarke walks past Russell to stand in front of Bellamy. He adjusts his shirt revealing more of the silver chain around his neck. A silver chain that matches hers. “Together,” she asks.

“Together,” Bellamy repeats and then turns to Murphy. “Tell everyone to meet us in the classroom. We need to form a plan.”

“And Murphy,” Clarke adds. “Bring guns.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feedback is much appreciated. You can find me on @asoldierwitch on tumblr if you'd like to drop me a line!


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